Forgive Me
by cmr2014
Summary: Leaving a sin behind doesn't guarantee that sucker won't follow you. Rated M because dealing with the past ain't pretty.


DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Lyrics to "Love and a .45", by Chris Knight

Lyrics to "I've Got A Mind to Give Up Living", by The Paul Butterfield Blues Band

**Forgive Me**

"Hey, sweet thing! More beer!"

Meryl stomped on the patron's foot. As he hopped around, she yelled over the noise, "Next time, read the name tag, you moron!"

She felt a hand grab as much as it could of her rear. Meryl was extra glad that protective footwear was mandatory for employees as the offender's face was forced to make acquaintance with her steel-toe-encased foot.

A couple more patrons were settling a dispute with their fists. As she tried to push through the crowd, one of them pulled Meryl into the way of an oncoming punch. She deflected the incoming blow with her empty beer platter, then thanked the one who had put her in danger by whacking him over the head with her platter.

Several jostles and altercations later, she finally made it to the beer counter to refill her platter with full steins.

_This used to be such a quiet place. Damn town council, deciding the town needed to get bigger. Now look at this mess; they've got all these new workers basically living in tents, since all the new housing they promised has been bogged down in negotiations over supplies contracts. These guys can't get their families out here, which means their wives are someplace else, which means they're lonely and horny and have no place to go and nothing better to do with their nights than roughhouse and get drunk, which means no decent people want to come into this town until these roughnecks are gone. Progress, my ass!_

She had just gotten all her refills when some bozo slammed into her from behind, sending full steins flying.

Meryl wanted to scream in frustration.

Somehow she managed to bottle it up and make it through the rest of the night without killing anyone. Wahoo, a moral victory, at least.

Closing time at last. She took a visceral joy in pushing drunks out the door with as much force as she deemed necessary. _That's for ripping my sleeve. That's for treating me like a stupid blowup doll. That's for making my uniform smell like a brewery._

"Let's go, boys; you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!"

One of them snarled at her; she grabbed him by the ear and hauled him physically out. "And don't come back until you've paid your tab, you lousy tipper!"

Then she and the rest of the staff had to clean up all the spilled beer, the broken glass, and the blood. Meryl had to break up a brewing fight between two of the girls who had found a knocked-out gold tooth at the same time.

What a mess her life had become.

She clocked out, hung up her apron and put on her cape, switched out her steel-toes for walking shoes, and counted up her tips. Hundreds, probably closer to thousands, of double-dollars were spent here each night. Her tips came out to fifty double-dollars.

_Son of a bitch._

She sighed; at some point, things had to get better…right?

She hauled her tired butt up and out the door, personal gear stowed in a backpack that she strapped on. Started trudging home.

The town had been good to her, in the past. The work was hard, sure, but the tips had been better, and she had had backpay coming in from Bernardelli. That ended when she quit to make a life here with Vash and Milly and the kid. The daughter that Milly had produced with Wolfwood was a wonderful kid, but she was also a mouth to feed that didn't kick in any money. Meryl's pay and Milly's pay from her construction supervisor job were able to keep the bills paid and food on the table, with precious little left over. And Vash…

Meryl didn't know what to do about Vash. She loved him fiercely, but he'd just been bouncing around from job to job in town as people needed extra help. Currently, he was clerking at the local store. She was proud of him for trying, but it was only that much more money in a cashbox that never had enough. Plus, if she was honest with herself – she was very jealous of him for having a regular-hours job where he got to sit down a lot.

The town council, once they had gotten to know him, wanted to make him the town marshal. It was a lot better pay; however, Meryl dreaded what would happen when he strapped on the gun again. Never mind that he'd be serving under an assumed name. It only took one loose mouth, or one guy from out of town who knew what he looked like, or one bounty hunter with a wanted poster passing through…it only took one whatever, and before you know it, every wannabe tough guy on Gunsmoke would flock to the town to test their mettle against Vash the Stampede.

It would be everything with the Gung-Ho Guns all over again. None of them would be safe.

She forbade Vash to take the marshal job. Was glad when he didn't argue. The last thing she needed was him deciding to be the alpha male and step into the role of gunman again.

But it _was_ the only thing he excelled at. That meant he was taking low-pay jobs around town to help add to Meryl and Milly's low-pay jobs.

Meryl sighed as she walked home. It wasn't that she regretted being with Vash. She just was supposed to be at a different place in her life right now.

Professional. Respected. Well-paid.

Not _here_.

Maybe she should talk with Vash. Maybe it would be ok if he took the marshal job. They could force the council to hire a deputy to take care of most of the stuff, keep Vash out of the public eye.

It would be more money. That would make all their lives better.

Meryl decided she'd speak with Vash about it tomorrow. She was too damn tired tonight. And he'd probably be preoccupied playing with Miss Nicole D. Thompson. He loved playing with that kid.

It would be the same routine as every other night. She would step in the house and hurt her foot on a toy. She'd yell at Vash to pick this crap up and put it away. He'd whine and reluctantly put the toys away, looking at her like she was a spoilsport bad guy.

Sometimes, it was like raising two kids instead of one.

Yeah, maybe this marshal job would be good for him. He could use a little more discipline.

She made it home. _Finally!_ Unlocked the door – another thing that had changed with the influx of roughnecks, people had to start locking up – and prepared herself for the nightly ritual.

"Vash, I hope you're ready to –"

Well, damn. All the toys were put away. The house actually looked somewhat clean for a change. Had Vash actually done something responsible?

Oh, right. Tonight was Nicole's mother/daughter sleep-in at the local school.

Hmm…Milly gone, Nicole gone, a house that didn't have to be cleaned. She didn't have to work tomorrow night. Maybe time for some cooking and a little wine? Never mind the wine – dare she think she could get away with some single-malt scotch? The bottle had been waiting an _awfully_ long time.

Let's see what surprise Vash had that would either make or break the night. Just get it out of the way…

"Vash?" she called. He wasn't in the living room; not in the kitchen, either.

"Hey, Vash? Are you asleep already, you lazy bum? Wherever you are, listen, I was thinking about cracking that bottle of –"

_KA-POW!_ The sound of a gunshot rang in through the open rear window.

_VASH!_

Thoughts of anything but him disappeared in the instant it took her to move. Screw the knob, she flat-out kicked the back door open and ran out into the night, derringers drawn.

Their house was a ways away from anyone else's. Their back yard was nothing but open land. Meryl ran far from the light of the house, calling for Vash.

_KA-POW! _Another gunshot, followed by breaking glass. She saw the muzzle blast and ran. As she got close, she could make out the silhouette of Vash. No one else around, so he at least wasn't in danger.

Meryl came up to him. He was sitting on a bench. She peered into the darkness, could make out, some distance away, a row of beer bottles glinting in the moonlight.

He had his portable radio with him, a whiskey-soaked voice haunting the night.

"Love and a .45

Are all you need to get through the night

One'll kill ya, one'll keep ya alive

Love and a .45…"

"Vash?"

He broke open his gun; a shell flew silently into the dust. Glinted as moonlight hit it, then disappeared into the void of Gunsmoke.

Vash thumbed in another bullet. Spun the cylinder. Closed the gun with a sharp jerk.

Meryl saw the empty bottles on the ground by the bench. Black label. One. Two. Three. Four bottles. Anyone else would have been passed out by now. Vash's system was stronger than that. That had always been the problem. She looked and saw a bottle half-full. Two more, still ready to go.

Vash held the gun low, arm flexed like he wanted to crush it with his grip. His shirt sleeves were rolled up; his scars rippled over the flexed muscle.

"One'll kill ya, one'll keep ya alive

Love and a .45…"

Meryl sat down next to him, placed a hand on his shoulder. "Vash?"

_Ca-click._ She looked down and saw he'd thumbed back the hammer, moving the cylinder to the next chamber.

She tried again. "Vash…"

_CLICK!_ The hammer striking an empty chamber made her flinch.

"Vash, talk to me. Please."

_Ca-click._

Meryl put her hand on the other side of his face, trying to turn it toward her.

_CLICK!_ Meryl jumped slightly.

Two chambers gone. Four left, any of which could be the live shot.

"Vash, you're scaring me…"

_Ca-click._

She tried to turn his face again. "Vash – honey – please, look at me. It's me, Meryl. Please."

Vash raised his forearm, bringing the gun up to just against his shoulder, braced against his left hand. Meryl saw from its angle that if it were to go off, it stood a good chance of taking his head with it.

He looked at her. Meryl forced herself to tear her eyes away from his trigger finger and meet his eyes. Despite all the liquor in his system, they were clear.

And hurting.

She waited for him to speak, silently willing his trigger finger not to move. A new song came on the radio, a slow blues solo on the guitar, then:

"I've got a mind to give up living

Yes, and go shopping instead

I've got a mi-ind to give up living

Ye-es, and go shopping instead

Pick me a tombstone

And be pronounced de-ead…"

Meryl slowly reached around Vash…brought the radio back to her…and threw the cursed thing as far away as she could manage. It landed with a crunch that, had she not been concerned with Vash, would have satisfied her tremendously. No more of that damned music came from it.

"I had a flashback."

Meryl's eyes snapped back to Vash's. "A flashback?"

"Yeah."

"Like the nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, Vash…"

Meryl started to put her arms around him, then pulled back when he tensed up. Settled for a hand on his cheek. "I hoped we'd seen the last of those when Nicole was born."

"Me, too." Vash looked away again, taking her hand off him. She placed it on his knee instead, needing to maintain some kind of contact with him.

"What was it about?"

The gun barrel, whether by accident or intent, moved that much closer in line to a shot that would take out his brain. "Legato."

Meryl's own memories of that horrible day surfaced. She could almost feel the gun barrel again as it pressed her head into the ground. The certainty that she was going to die. The screaming. She didn't know who she'd been more worried for, herself or Milly.

She remembered hating Legato for this. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want Vash to pull that trigger, either. She knew what it would do to him.

So did Legato.

Meryl wanted to throw up remembering it all. Her stomach churned. Her heart raced, feeling like it was going to pound out of her chest. Her vision started to go.

_Get it together! Vash needs you!_

She forced herself to take a series of deep breaths. Slowly, much too slowly, the fear attack went away. She was able to focus back on Vash.

"Vash…"

He blinked.

"Vash…" She put her hand back on his face, pulling it toward her. This time he gave. She cupped his face with her left hand, right hand putting a little pressure on the gun.

"Darling, put down the gun. For me."

She finally seemed to get through to him. He looked at the gun as if realizing for the first time that it was there. Decocked it. Lowered it slowly. With a violence that startled her, hurled it away like she had the radio.

The waterworks opened. Vash pulled Meryl close, holding her tight and burying his face against her chest. Her work uniform was still stained and smelly from her shift, but he didn't care and neither did she. She held him, one hand against the back of his head like she'd hold a baby, other hand tight around his back.

She suffered from less than a minute of remembering that day, but if she could take all his pain upon herself, she would…

He was saying something. She kissed him softly as she lifted his tear-stained face up. "What is it?"

The pain in his eyes poured into hers.

"Forgive me. I need you to forgive me."

Her thumbs wiped away tears. "Whatever for?"

Vash struggled to get the words out, but he managed. "You were in danger and…I hesitated. I heard you screaming, and I wanted to save you…but Rem had always said…I didn't want to kill him, but he was going to kill you, and I couldn't let that happen, but there had to be another way, Rem always said there was and I kept trying to think of one and I hesitated and I was nearly too late to save you because I didn't want to lose Rem I was afraid I would lose her forever and that scared me and I was so selfish because all I wanted was to have it my way and I need you to forgive me please forgive me for being so selfish and afraid pleaseforgivemeMerylplease –"

She shushed him with a kiss. "Darling, there is nothing you need to be forgiven for. In an impossible situation, there is never a right choice. But I am very glad you made the one you did." She kissed him again.

He smiled a little. "Because you're alive."

She smiled back, pressed her head against his. "No. Because your choice allowed me to be with you for the rest of my life. There is _nothing_ I would trade that for.

"And now, I need you to please forgive me."

"What for?" he asked her.

"For ever taking you for granted. I never want to forget for a second how much you mean to me."

They kissed again, and spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, looking at the night sky.

The hell with single-malt scotch; Meryl had Vash.


End file.
